Yesterday I picked up my husband's bib for the (inaugural!) Loudoun Half Marathon. When you go to packet pickup, invariably the volunteers will wish you a good race. I always feel odd about taking credit for a race I'm not running and find myself saying something like, "I'm not running the race, my husband is." This scene played out yesterday much like it always does, except this time the volunteer responded with something I hadn't heard before. "Oh, well, you look like a runner."
You look like a runner. The words were still melodiously echoing in my ears as I walked on clouds throughout the afternoon.